


Certainty

by SaltedSaltine (EliPot)



Series: Forever [2]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: 3.3k of keith lovin for the soul, Anxiety Attacks, Fluff and Angst, Keith has anxiety, Lance has depression, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-26
Updated: 2017-07-26
Packaged: 2018-12-07 03:37:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,352
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11615079
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EliPot/pseuds/SaltedSaltine
Summary: Keith stared at the ceiling, alarm already turned off well before it would have screamed him awake. Today would be a long one, he could already feel it.





	Certainty

       Keith stared at the ceiling, alarm already turned off well before it would have screamed him awake. Today would be a long one, he could already feel it.

       He sat up, glancing over to his drooling partner and shaking his head at Lance’s appearance. A colorful face mask, a sleep mask, and headphones certainly made him look like an alien monster instead of Keith’s fiancé, and he loved every inch of him. With his headphones, the brunet wouldn’t wake up to anything, including his own alarm. And that was something Keith wouldn’t have, so when he stood, he strode over to the tiny radio on their shared dresser and turned it on. A random station played and he let out a breath at the noise. Total silence made him antsy nowadays; it felt too much like a hospital waiting room.

       His phone sat quietly, innocently, and suddenly that paranoia came back in full swing. Even in the early hours of the morning he couldn’t get rid of it, that mind-numbing feeling that something would happen. He needed to escape, wanted to run. Standing in their tiny bedroom doing nothing wouldn’t help him any, so Keith quickly forced himself into gear. He turned back to Lance and came close enough to take the headphones off. A morning run, even at this hour, would do him good.

  


       Pushing himself to the limit felt good, kept him from concentrating too hard on his thoughts. It was unhealthy, but so was Lance’s habit of sleeping at the slightest inconvenience. He didn’t know how long he’d been going, only that it was long enough for his water to run out and for the sun to begin rising by the time he got back to their apartment. Unlocking the door and opening it, he was greeted with a “Catch!” before having a towel unceremoniously thrown at him. He caught it, of course, as he always did.

       “Coffee’s ready once you get out of the shower,” Lance spoke as Keith strode by him. He felt the swat on his ass and rolled his eyes. He was probably still just grumpy from waking up earlier than he wanted to. “Remember to wash your face separately. Shampoo is-”

       “Horrible for my pores. You’ve told me this many times, for many years Lance. I know.” Lance sputtered and grumped to himself about mean, horrible boys with bad haircuts and cute smiles.

  


_Lance hates you and is only here out of convenience._

_Not today._

 

       He scowled and shed his sweaty clothing, tossing each item into the closest empty hamper. Catching his reflection in the bathroom mirror, he took note of the little smiley tattoo right next to his dick.

       “Lance, I still need to kick your ass about the damn smiley!” Keith called, listening to the awful cackling coming from the kitchen. He’d never live getting that specific tattoo on a drunken dare. “Horrible, absolutely horrible!” His voice cracked on the second _horrible_. Damn him and his competitiveness. It got him into shit like going against the heavyweight that is Lance McClain Fernández (y Kogane soon) in a drinking contest and then getting tattoos while drunk off his ass. Real smart there Kogane. Real smart.

       Soon, when the high of annoyance at his fiancé dissipated, he felt the paranoia come crawling back, starting at his fingertips and slowly infecting the rest of him as he moved. Breathing was just a little harder, but if he got in the shower he’d be fine. He’d be _fine_. _He’d be fine_. Spinning around, he yanked the shower curtain to the side, turning the water as high as it could go and stepping in, letting each drop assault his head and shoulders with their rapidly increasing temperature. But the ugliness didn’t quit, and his breathing quickened with the searing sense of absolute _dread_ over absolutely nothing. Keith thought about calling Lance, but his mouth wouldn’t move outside of taking in shuddering breaths. He felt sick, god it hadn’t been this bad in _forever_ , and he was finally getting _better_ , _why was he so selfish_ -

       “Lanc… _Lance!_ ” He forced out, curling in on himself as he tried to make himself smaller. Lance came running, the panicked urgency in his tone probably having startled him. The water was scalding by that point.

       He didn’t really hear the cursing under Lance’s breath, nor did Keith feel the water turn off, steam practically radiating from his naked form.

       “Keith, love, look at me.” Lance kneeled until Keith could see his eyes, such a stunning mix of blue and brown, “I’m going to touch you; nod once if you’re okay with that, shake your head if not. Okay?”

       He nodded once. Lance apparently already had the towel on him already, and wrapped it around Keith’s shoulders, letting him grasp at the corners and pull it tighter around himself. He hated this, he hated this so much. With his fiancé softly guiding him, he stepped out of the tub and onto the bath mat.

       “Let’s get you dried off and back in bed. I’ll call in for you, tell them you won’t be coming in today,” Lance spoke quietly, gently, and shushed him when he tried to fight back.        “I’m not letting you go into work to be around people all day when you’re like this. Your health is more important to me than your job.” And in the silence left between them, Keith nodded slowly. He was right; right now, being anywhere but inside his home would only cause him to have another attack.

       “... Okay.” He still couldn’t focus, but the sound of Lance’s breathing, the feeling of his arms slowly pulling him out of and away from the bathroom, and his soft words kept him grounded enough not to spiral into his attack again. He wouldn’t be okay for at least a couple hours, and at this point it was crucial to get him to calm down.

       Lance quickly dressed Keith in some of his sweats and a loose t-shirt, wrapping the towel around his hair to keep it from soaking his collar. The routine movements were soothing, as was the soft touch of Lance’s fingers on his skin. By the time Keith finally got the chance to lie down, his heartbeat had returned to normal, and the exhaustion had set in. He needed to sleep, but that meant closing his eyes and risking another nightmare. The towel in his hair smelled a little funny, but with Lance rubbing soft circles into his arms, he didn’t really find it in himself to care.

       “Rest a little bit, love. I’ll go make you some breakfast and call Shiro, ‘kay?” When Lance shifted down from his spot beside him, Keith moved just the slightest so what would have been a forehead kiss turned into a kiss to the eyelid. The brunet snorted and leaned down again to kiss him on the lips. “Be back in a minute, babe. Love you.”

       “Love you too.”

 

\--

 

       Lance stood, stepping away from his fiancé and out of their room. He’d get Keith to bathe later; he’d fill a bath with warm water and nice smelling products good for the skin. Before, Keith had been so stubborn about powering through everything, so stubborn about ever giving himself a break. It had scared Lance if he was honest, to see someone he cared about so _much_ treat himself so badly. That was Lance’s job, not Keith’s. That kind of self hatred had no place anywhere near him, and yet there it was. He grimaced, shaking himself out of that spiral. He didn’t have time for his depression to kick his ass, he had a phone call to make.

       Grabbing the phone in his pocket, he unlocked it and scrolled through the… surprisingly short list of contacts.Tapping on Shiro’s number, he waited for the elder man to pick up.

       “Moo?”

       “I’m gonna ignore the fact that you just answered your phone by mooing to tell you that Keith’s not coming into work today. Things happened and most human interaction is basically out of the question for the day.”

       “Ah, okay. I’ll have someone cover his shift for today.”

       “Thank you.”

       “Oh, and Lance? I’m _udderly_ happy about your engagement.”

       “I fucking hate you.” He hung up, cutting Shiro’s boisterous laughter off. When would he lay off about the cow incident? Probably never, if Lance was honest with himself. But, such is life.

       Keith’s favorite food was, surprisingly, strawberry shortcake, and he absolutely adored Lance’s strawberry shortcake pancakes, so that’s what he would make. Altering the recipe was as easy as having him take an antihistamine, but who wants to wait for that when he could just as easily replace the milk?

  


       “Babe, food’s ready,” He called, expertly carrying a tray in one hand and his laptop in the other. Thank god for 50s style diners honestly; his arm strength was through the roof because of it. He set the laptop down slowly, at the end of the bed, and then moved to stand beside a groggy Keith. “I called Shiro, so you’re good to go for today.” his boyfriend nodded, still rubbing the sleepiness out of his eyes so he could eat. It was kind of adorable.

       “I smell strawberry and maple syrup.”

       “Yep. Made your favorite.”

       “... No milk?”

       “No milk.”

       “Thank you.”

       And that was that. Setting the tray on Keith’s lap, only letting go when it was solidly in place, Lance then moved back to where he’d set his laptop down. He grabbed it as he listened to his fiancé scarf down his food, chuckling at his enthusiasm. It was gross, but it was so completely _Keith_ that it never mattered. And anyway, he was just the same when he got hungry enough.

       “Netflix? We can watch some cartoons.”

       “Only if it’s got robots.” Lance grinned and made his way over to the free side of the bed.

       “Mech anime and chill?” He laughed at Keith’s expression, all high pitched and breathy and _loud_ , and then held up an arm to defend against Keith’s weak attempts at punching his shoulder.

       “Don’t be gross! Aughhhhh, now you’ve ruined cartoons forever.” Lance continued to laugh, attempting to recreate his love’s expression and only laughing again when he couldn’t get it quite right. Keith’s quiet snickers weren’t heard over his boisterous noise, but the shaking of his shoulders were the obvious giveaway that he wasn’t actually upset at the comment. By the time their laughter died down completely, Lance had sat down and settled himself right next to Keith, although on top of the blankets instead of under them because he was a heathen.

       He grabbed at Keith’s hand, twining their fingers together and drawing it to his lips. The cool band of his engagement ring felt heavy on Lance’s skin, and he kissed it again before pressing another kiss to the back of his love’s hand. The rough callouses of his palm and his fingers were a welcome sensation, and he couldn’t help but breathe out, “I can’t wait to marry you.”

       The heavy breath next to him startled him, and when he turned to see what went wrong, he felt his heart shatter. Over the years, Keith had let his emotional walls come down around Lance. And sometimes, sometimes it showed in the way he struggled to keep himself together in private, and the way he always seemed to use pain as a way to ground himself when he was truly upset. His free hand came up to brush at the other’s lips, forcing him to unclench his jaw and let go of his bottom lip before it bled.

       “Hey, it’s alright,” he trailed off, moving the laptop away and scooting closer to him, mindful of the tray still on his lap. Keith’s shoulders hunched and his brow creased. The silence between the two of them was thick with emotion. “Love, I love you, and I know that it’s scary, and that you’re still working on accepting that I actually stayed long enough to get to this point. I see it in your eyes, and in the way you’ve started holding yourself back again. I know it’s hard, baby, I know you’re struggling, and _I love you_ and will love you through it all.”

       And there came the closed eyes, the clenching of his jaw, the painful squeeze of his hand. He leaned forward, bringing his hand to draw Keith closer so he could kiss his temple.

       “You are so, so strong and I’m so damn happy that I can call you mine,” he murmured into his skin, ignoring the towel in his face. His sitting position wasn’t comfortable in the slightest, but what was a little pain when your significant other was hurting? “Just breathe love. Let it out if you need to; I’ll be right here.”

 

\--

 

       Breathing steadily was hard, but Keith made himself do it. In, out, hold, in, out, hold… He grabbed at the old towel and pried it off his head, ignoring the curly, frizzy mess left in its wake, and tossed it at the end of the bed. Tilting his head up, he aimed for a failed kiss at the corner of Lance’s lips, putting in as much feeling as he physically could in their current positions. He wanted to move his food off his lap so he could get closer, but he also didn’t want to let go of Lance’s hand.

       “I love you, I love you, I love you…” the brunet had murmured into more kisses against Keith’s lips, each more successful than his first attempt. And each time the came together, he could feel himself unwinding, coming apart at the seams until he was threadbare and falling apart. He still didn’t let himself cry, but the few tears that did slip through fell quietly.

       “You are gorgeous,” kiss, “and kind,” another “and courageous,” and another, “and no matter what the voices in your head tell you, you are so, _so_ important to the people that love you.”

       “I know.”

       “We love you, and we will _always_ love you.”

       “I know…”

       “You are one of the brightest lights in my life, and I’m forever grateful to have fallen in love with you”

       “I…” He looked down and away from where Lance had pulled his gaze in, slowly sinking again. Lance pulled him back up before he could drown.

       “Look at me Keith. You are one of the strongest man I’ve ever met, and you’ve been alone, hurt, and scared for a long time. You and I both know it takes to heal, but I will remind you every day if I have to that _you will get through this_.” The firm squeeze of his hand broke the dam holding him together, and Keith stole another kiss from Lance’s lips before letting his head fall to his shoulder so he could finally cry.

       He needed this; they both knew he needed to just let go, to let it all out. The position was awkward; they couldn’t get any closer without knocking the tray over, and while he didn’t care about the mess it would make, he knew that Lance did. Lance was always the one keeping their house spotless. Cleaning was how Lance dealt with his own anxieties.

       “‘M sorry,” he spoke softly, voice thick with tears.

       “Don’t be. You’ve nothing to be sorry about.” The brunet thumbed at the back of his neck, fingers occasionally dragging through the curls there. But then he pulled away, softly pushing Keith to sit up with his snotty nose and blotchy cheeks. He probably looked so gross, but the look in Lance’s eyes showed nothing but open affection towards him. “I’m gonna go take this--” he pointed at the offending piece of portable tableware, “--and put it in the kitchen. Think you’ll be okay long enough for me to do that?” A sincere question, to which Keith nodded and leaned back, letting go of Lance’s hand so he could wipe the snot away from his nose. The brunet’s face scrunched up, no doubt in disgust because Keith was always gross like that, and muttered something about tissues as he collected the tray, stood, ad made his way out of the room again.

       Keith watched Lance leave, eyes following the steady movement of his legs and snickering when he stumbled just slightly on that little bump in the hallway. He was still floating above water, but the solid presence in the forefront of his mind made it that much easier to keep from sinking again. Lance wouldn’t let him drown himself.

       Sinking back into the pillows, he waited. It wouldn’t be too long of a wait, the kitchen was just down the hall. He could even hear the sound of his fiancé shuffling around, setting dishes into their crappy dishwasher and setting the tray on the counter. The noise was so inherently domestic that Keith had to let himself smile. Out in the real world, Lance and Keith were partners in crime for life, causing havoc for their friends and ‘bickering like an old married couple’ as Pidge would often say. But in the privacy of their own home they were quieter, gentler to each other. Lance would have his days, and Keith would have his; sometimes, their days overlapped and they basically became just a big ball of limbs, clinging close to each other because they couldn’t do anything else. Their illnesses worked against them until they were rubbed raw and fatigued beyond belief. Bur even if that constant ache, that burning need to run and hide himself away continued to sit in the back of his mind, he played Lance’s words over and over in his mind. _You will get through this, you will get through this, you will get through this…_

       The exhaustion from before was setting in again, and once Lance was back in the room and back on their bed, although this time under the covers like an actual sensible person, he’d latched onto him. Keith gripped his shirt tight, almost enough to turn his knuckles stark white against the rest of his skin. Lance brought his hands to his and gently coaxed them to loosen up.

       “What do you say to another go at the shower after a nap? I know you’re tired,” he spoke softly, close to his ear while drawing circles on his fingers.

       “That… would be nice. I know I probably stink.” Lance snorted, ruining the serenity in the room for a minute.

       “Ain’t that the truth. You smell absolutely horrible to my delicate nose. But,” One hand moved up to tangle itself into Keith’s hair, and the brunet pulled him close. “You need some sleep. Don’t think I don’t notice those bags under your eyes, mister.”

       Well. He had a point. He didn’t sleep well. Lately, most of his ‘sleeping’ was really just light dozing that he did to pass the time; especially with the past week or so. Whenever he tried to actually sleep, it was just anxiety inducing nightmares about his reality falling apart around him--which, if he was being honest, was probably one of the scariest things to ever experience. And he’d already done that once before--and then waking up in a cold sweat just hours after he’d gone to bed.

       He scooted himself up so he and Lance were face to face. Cheeks still blotchy and still damp from tears, hands grasped his fiancé’s cheeks and he planted a firm kiss on his lips.

       “Thank you for loving me,” he whispered against his lips. Lance loved him even when he couldn’t love himself.

       “You mean more to me than even the Earth itself, love.” The brunet kissed him again. If he were a cat, he would have purred. He wasn’t okay. Not by a long shot. But he wasn’t alone either. Keith was safe, here in his home, and in Lance’s arms.

 

\--

 

       He woke up to the sunset coloring Lance’s beautiful skin and thought, with certainty, that he’d get through it all with this gorgeous man at his side.

**Author's Note:**

> Since my previous klance piece garnered so much positive attention because of how I wrote Lance's depression, I thought I'd write a sequel to it that was specifically about Keith's anxiety!


End file.
